


crapulam terriblem habeo

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-16
Updated: 2003-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-25 02:58:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1627994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	crapulam terriblem habeo

**Author's Note:**

> Written for stellamaru

 

 

"Piss off," Sirius muttered without even opening his eyes to check who it was rudely interrupting his sleep. 

"Sorry," Peter apologized, stumbling again before he found his bed. 

Sirius just grunted and appeared to go back to sleep. 

James was at home, and Sirius would be going to James' place the next day. They hadn't left at the same time, because Sirius was finishing up a potions project he had to pass with flying colours, and possibly a fanfare, if he didn't want to fail potions entirely. 

Remus was still in the common room, reading latin. Peter had been helping him out, after coming home from a brief trip with Sirius to the Hog's Head. He'd been asking Remus questions and such, before he got too tired to see the words he was supposed to be asking about. When he agreed that "Orgia bona hic in his septem diebus?" was "Do you have any eye of Newt?", Remus sent him to bed. 

Since Peter thought Remus might just have a point, he didn't object. 

He crawled into his bed, lay his head on his pillow and closed his eyes. 

* 

In the first dream, Peter is a Quidditch star. 

In the second, he's at the top of the class. 

The third concerns his family. His father especially. 

The fourth is... 

* 

When Peter stops Remus in the hallway and pulls him into a broom closet, Remus blinks in puzzlement, and then his eyes widen in shock as Peter kisses him. 

Peter continues to kiss him until Remus is kissing him back, tongue pushing and sliding against his own. 

The broom closet is tiny, and they are pressed up against each other, Remus with his back against the wall. Peter can feel it when Remus becomes aroused. He smiles, a little triumphantly. 

* 

The fifth... 

* 

Remus lookes up from the very thick, battered looking, leathery book. He smiles wryly. "Esne ebrius iterum?" 

Sirius flips him off and drops down in his favorite chair. "As a matter of fact, no. Slightly tipsy, maybe, but definitely not drunk. Nope. Nearly sober you could say." 

"He lies," Peter informes the room, coming in after Sirius. He rubs his forehead and squints at Remus. "Aren't you fluent yet? You've been studying for days." 

"Cerebra pavronum," Remus says absently, burrowing himself in the book again. 

Peter throws Sirius a confused look. "What?" 

"He called you a peacock brain," Sirius mutters in response. 

"Ah." Peter sits down in front of the fire, leaning back on his arms. "Will that be on the test as well?" 

Remus grins into his book. "Maybe." 

Sirius sighs and pushes himself back up on his feet. "You know what? I'm going to bed." 

Peter and Remus stare at him in surprise. 

"But it's still early," Remus says. "It's only ten." 

Sirius shrugs. "I want an early start tomorrow. Want this thrice damned potions thing to be over and done with," he adds, snarling a little. 

Remus snorts. "All right. Good night, then, I guess." 

"Good night," Peter echoes, feeling silly. 

Sirius staggers up the stairs, mumbling something that might be, "good night to you too." 

Remus shakes his head and returns to his book. 

* 

The sixth... 

* 

Sirius is the gorgeous one in the Gryffindor tower. Everyone knows that. 

But Remus and his gentle smile... 

Well. Wow. 

This is what Peter thinks when he sits in class, trying to pay attention to Binns, who is going on about the difficulties in classifying a beast. 

Below him, Snape is sneering as usual. 

Beside him, Remus keeps his gaze on his book, treading in his own little groove. Possibly doing Sirius's Divination homework. No, that's what James's is doing, judging from the gleeful way he's attacking the parchment. James loves Divination. It's the funniest topic ever. The marauders usually give their homework to him when something needs being invented. Remus does the actual work part. Sirius is apparently mainly in the class to catch up on his sleep. Peter is in it because the others are. 

He doesn't mind. It's not a bad class, all in all. 

And everybody's in Muggle Studies as well, and that was his idea. 

* 

The seventh... 

* 

Their lips part, and Remus smiles. 

Peter stares glassily at him. "What..?" 

"Tace. Let me..." And Remus' hand touches his stomach, caressing, searching lower. Finds. Peter's breathing becomes more laboured, and he can't think, can't... He doesn't understand why. Why Remus... But Merlin, it feels so good, and he can't think anymore. 

* 

The eight... 

* 

Peter sits at King James' feet. He's the king's most trusted aide. Peter wears a jester's clothes and he can say anything. The queen has hair of fire and a temper to match. She has the hearts of all the castle's men, but not the jester's. He does not trust her. She is a wonderful queen, but she is a muggle born, and everybody knows one can't trust muggle borns. 

The king's wizard and the king's favorite knight sits at the king's round table and are his faithful men. 

Not as faithful as Peter is, though. 

There is nothing he wouldn't do for the king. 

* 

The ninth... 

* 

Rat dreams are strange. Food is important. Mice are enemies to be killed instantly. The stag and the dog are slept upon, and the werewolf is feared. 

The world is very big, when one's a rat. 

It's a cacophany of smells. 

The smell of wet dog is never a good thing. The smell of snow in the air is peculiarly flat. And unicorns smell of cold spring water and ripe blueberries. 

* 

The tenth... 

* 

In a mansion far away, where everything looks blue, there lives a mighty powerful man. He sits by the fire in his chair, reading his book. Peter steps towards him, hesitant. He knows who this man is, he just does. He never thought Lord Voldemort would have such beauty, though. The man in the chair looks far younger than Peter is sure he should, and far more handsome than one would think such a man would look. 

Lord Voldemort look up from his book, and smiles broadly. "Ah, Peter... I was expecting you." His eyes are lit up by small blue flames flickering. 

Peter can't look away. He can't move. 

"Let's talk about dreams," says Lord Voldemort, closing his book. 

* 

And then Peter wakes up. 

 


End file.
